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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25834291">Forget-Me-Not</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/viiperfang/pseuds/viiperfang'>viiperfang</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>HLVRAI Memory Wipe AU [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Half-Life VR But The AI Is Self Aware</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Boomer is a background ship, G-Man isn't a great person in this, Gordon has ADHD because I said so, Like Benrey is dead but not for long, M/M, Minor Violence, Sunkist is a girl in this, Tags Subject to Change, Temporary Amnesia, Temporary Death, breakdowns, but like, established relationships - Freeform, he didn't mean for things to end up like they did., maybe someday the tags will get separated, sorry regular half-life folks, they are married and have been for a while, they/them benrey, uh</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 03:41:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,557</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25834291</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/viiperfang/pseuds/viiperfang</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p></p><blockquote>
  <p>"I also have something… I took from you… before the start of your… whole adventure. That I would like to… give back."</p>
  <p>"That you took, wh-what are you," Gordon started to laugh, ever so slightly, but his voice died when Mr. Coolatta pressed his hands against Gordon's temples. He forced himself not to flinch away from the touch despite his Fight or Flight instincts kicking into overdrive, heart hammering his ribs and stomach churning. With a railroad spike of pain driven through his skull and an attempt to shove the hands off him to stop it, memories—sounds and colors and smells and laughter—flooded through his mind.</p>
</blockquote>This is based off my <a href="https://g0rd0n-fr33m4n.tumblr.com/post/626027355047182336/au-where-gman-takes-gordons-memories">Memory Wipe AU</a>, of which the details can be found there. Long story short, G-Man is the one to take Gordon's memories of Benrey before the events of the Resonance Cascade.
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Benrey/Gordon Freeman, Bubby/Dr. Coomer (Half-Life)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>HLVRAI Memory Wipe AU [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1882975</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>292</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hi, yeah, new hyperfixation again, sorry about that LMAO. Uh, this is, as always, unbeta'd, so feel free to lemme know if you spot any errors.</p><p>TW for the chapter:<br/>// Breakdowns, minor violence</p><p>The next chapter is gonna be the worse of the two, so :3</p><p>If you enjoy this please leave a comment! I thrive off of them and they always make my day!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Mr. Freeman, if you would… follow me over here… I would like… to have a word with you."</p><p> </p><p>All five of them—no six if you counted Sunkist—were waiting outside of the Chuck E Cheese in the warm evening, air thick and humid. Gordon could've sworn that this particular building had gone out of business a couple years ago but it had been… fine if not empty when he had been teleported inside for Tommy's birthday. Weird. Wait, Tommy's dad had said something, he should've probably been paying attention. He wanted Gordon to follow him?</p><p> </p><p>The HEV suit weighed heavily on his shoulders as he trudged after the taller man, exhaustion wrapped around every limb as the prospect of being <em> home </em>grew closer. He stopped when Mr. Coolatta raised a hand to signal him to, and shook his head to rid it of any stray thoughts before leveling the not-so-human man with a flat look. "You wanted to speak with me?"</p><p> </p><p>Mr. Coolatta nodded his head and raised a briefcase Gordon didn't remember him having. "I have… a gift from Black Mesa to you… for your… excellent work after the Resonance… Cascade." He flicked open the latches and turned it so it was facing Gordon, who squinted at it through his cracked glasses. </p><p> </p><p>He slowly reached out his left hand and raised to top, only to blink stupidly at the item held within the plush lining. It was metal, that much was obvious, the silver of the object glinting in the quickly fading light. He raised an eyebrow and glanced up at Mr. Coolatta for an explanation. "What… what is it?"</p><p> </p><p>"Unfortunately, you losing your… right arm was an unforeseen… consequence of the Resonance Cascade. This, Dr. Freeman, is… a state of the art, Black Mesa Cybernetic Prosthetic… not unlike your colleague… Dr. Coomer's implants," he explained, tilting his head ever so slightly. "As you are… <em> unable </em> to regain your old hand, I… have acquired you a new one."</p><p> </p><p>Gordon blinked again, brain struggling to piece together what Tommy's dad was saying. His fingers brushed the metal, oddly warm and almost humming with energy, before he picked it up and weighed it slightly. "T-thank you," he stammered, remembering himself and who he was talking to. "No really, you don't know how much this means to me, Mr. Coolatta."</p><p> </p><p>He was about to say more but the suited man raised a hand for him to stop talking, so he did, letting his arm fall limp at his side. The briefcase disappeared from his hand, and he fiddled with the cuff of his left sleeve before talking again. "I also have something… I took from you… before the start of your… whole adventure. That I would like to… give back."</p><p> </p><p>"That you <em> took </em>, wh-what are you," Gordon started to laugh, ever so slightly, but his voice died when Mr. Coolatta pressed his hands against Gordon's temples. He forced himself not to flinch away from the touch despite his Fight or Flight instincts kicking into overdrive, heart hammering his ribs and stomach churning. With a railroad spike of pain driven through his skull and an attempt to shove the hands off him to stop it, memories—sounds and colors and smells and laughter—flooded through his mind. </p><p> </p><p>Mr. Coolatta stepped back, and Gordon nearly collapsed to his knees, barely able to stand as his heart <em> stopped </em> . He remembered. He remembered <em> Benrey </em> . Gordon remembered the life he had before the ResCas, his childhood and growing up, and <em> Benrey </em> , and college, and his first love and heartbreak, and <em> Benrey </em> , and a growing crush on the one closest to him in the entire world and— <em> Oh God </em>, Benrey!</p><p> </p><p>Gordon had known them since he was 6, the two grew up together, went to school and college together, had played and laughed and loved and were <em> dating </em>, and Gordon…</p><p> </p><p>Gordon killed them. In cold blood. </p><p> </p><p>He was going to be sick. </p><p> </p><p>Blood slammed in his ears, deafening him. His vision swam, tears streaming down his face unbidden. His breath tore from his chest in painful gasps. </p><p> </p><p>He looked up to see Mr. Coolatta seemingly pleased with himself, though his expression failed to change. This made rage bubble up in Gordon's chest, how-how <em> dare </em> he. How <em> dare </em> this fucker do this to Gordon, to <em> Benrey </em>, and think nothing wrong of it. </p><p> </p><p>"You," Gordon spat, voice shattering and full of sadness, anger, and <em> hurt </em> . "You manipulative, evil, piece of Alien <em> shit </em> !" With every word his voice grew louder, potent and venomous and burning his throat. He jabbed a finger into the man's chest. "How <em> dare </em> you? Y-you took my <em> memories </em>!"</p><p> </p><p>"Now, Dr. Freeman," Mr. Coolatta began, having the gall to not even have an ounce of regret in his voice. Gordon tuned him out, the prosthetic in his hand hitting the ground as he pulled his fist back. </p><p> </p><p>It connected with Mr. Coolatta's nose with a wet crunch, the cartilage or whatever it was giving under the heavy glove of the HEV suit. Gordon was distantly aware he was yelling, a faint feeling that there were no words, just a sound of a broken man screaming in anguish. Tears dripped anew from his eyes, fogging up his glasses as he <em> shoved </em> the alien being in front of him to the ground and leaping on top of him. </p><p> </p><p>He felt his fist connect with G-Man's face over and over again, his own twisted in a hateful snarl, until there was a panicked, "Gordon, stop!" and two sets of arms heaved his flailing body off the man. </p><p> </p><p>"Y-You fucker," Gordon howled, spit flying from his mouth and hair a wild mess, "This is all <em> your </em>fault, I'll kill you! I'll fucking kill you like you made me kill Benrey!"</p><p> </p><p>He's manhandled into someone's chest—Dr. Coomer's, he thinks—arms wrapping around his chest and back, a hand on his head in a comforting gesture from Bubby. </p><p> </p><p>"Gordon, would you mind explaining what exactly is going on?" Dr. Coomer asked, tightening his hold until Gordon stopped fighting. </p><p> </p><p>"I've <em> never </em> seen you like that, it was like you were feral," Bubby helpfully added, patting his head like a dog for good measure.</p><p> </p><p>"H-h-he," Gordon had to take in a shuddering breath, tried to get his raging thoughts under control, before trying again. "He took my memories, o-of Benrey, a-and of us dating, so-so we could be his fucking p-pawns in his game," he managed to get out before the full reality of everything slammed into him like a train. "Oh <em> god </em>, I killed them!"</p><p> </p><p>Like a switch had been flipped, all his anger and fight left him, and he crumpled into a ball as his shoulders shook, bringing his only hand up to fist in his hair. He let out a strangled wail, body wracked with sobs, and felt himself scooped into Dr. Coomer's arms. His hand is pulled gently from his hair, so he latches onto the nearest thing, which just so happened to be the front of Bubby's shirt, keeping him put. </p><p> </p><p>Bubby turned his gaze to G-Man, who was standing up and brushing himself off. Tommy hovered nearby, unsure of who to go to, and Sunkist sat at his feet. Coming to a decision, he gestured towards Gordon before he himself took a few steps closer to his dad. "W-what is Mr. Freeman talking about, Dad? You wouldn't do-You wouldn't have taken his memories, right?"</p><p> </p><p>Mr. Coolatta straightened out his tie, before turning to Tommy, completely ignoring the murderous stare coming from Bubby. "Dr. Freeman is… correct. I did, in fact, take. His memories. But," he started to defend himself, ignoring Bubby's outraged cry, Tommy's hurt gasp, and Dr. Coomer's cursing. "You all need to understand. Things had to… go a certain way. His and… <em> Benrey's </em> relationship… would have only gotten in the way of… the way the cards needed to fold."</p><p> </p><p>"So you took a man's memories of his goddamn significant other, so they could fall into a role? That's fucking bullshit. Gimme a reason I don't set you on fire right now," Bubby scoffed, shifting closer to Gordon. </p><p> </p><p>Dr. Coomer's normally kind eyes were narrowed and hardened by mistrust and anger, arms tightening around Gordon as he brought the man further into his chest. </p><p> </p><p>Even his own son's eyebrows were pinched together, a tight frown painting his lips. Tommy took one step, and then two, and then three, four, five, until he was beside the rest of the science team, shaking his head at his dad. Sunkist bared her teeth when he met her eye. </p><p> </p><p>G-Man bowed his head. "I… did not… understand the nature of their relationship. I didn't quite know… how far their affection ran for. Eachother. I am… unused to the complexities of… human relationships and. Emotions. I am truly, ashamed, and sorry. For my actions, and for… hurting <em> all </em> of you."</p><p> </p><p>Bubby just scoffed again but it was Tommy who spoke up. "It's not our place to forgive you. We-we aren't the ones you hurt, dad. Y-you can't just-You can't take someone's memories and expect it to be okay. You fucked up."</p><p> </p><p>Mr. Coolatta slowly approached, hands raised to show he meant no harm, though he kept his distance when both Sunkist <em> and </em> Bubby growled to let him know he was close enough. He cleared his throat to garner Gordon's attention, the HEV-clad man shifting his face to peer up at him with a single eye. </p><p> </p><p>What Mr. Coolatta saw was not the same, brave man from with Black Mesa, but instead a scared, broken young man in need of care. And <em> he </em> had caused this. Something in his chest ached, and his face softened just the slightest amount. "Dr. Freeman," he began, voice quiet as if to not frighten the man, "I know… that I am probably the <em> last </em> person… you'd like to speak to, but. I'd like to try and… fix things. If I could… <em> possibly </em>… manage to get your Benrey… back. And explain everything… to them. Would that suffice as a… metaphorical olive branch?"</p><p> </p><p>Gordon was quiet for a moment, mulling over his words. "Can-You can get him back? You're not fucking with me?" he asked, voice cracking and hesitant. </p><p> </p><p>Mr. Coolatta nodded, once. "If I can manage to… locate his whereabouts within the… all-encompassing void that is… the afterlife, I can bring him back to life. It may take… some time. Possibly two weeks, if that suffices?"</p><p> </p><p>"I don't care how long it takes," Gordon sniffed, pushing away from Dr. Coomer and finally letting go of Bubby, only to jab his finger in G-Man's direction. "Get him back, and stay away from us for a while, and I will <em> think </em> about forgiving you."</p><p> </p><p>"Deal."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p></p><blockquote>
  <p>Three months after the party, there was a loud bang which woke Gordon from his uneasy sleep with a sharp gasp. He sat upright, prosthetic hand bunched in his shirt above his heart which was beating wildly in his chest. He held his breath as he listened for more noise, and heard a muttered curse from somewhere down the hall. Shit, someone was really trying to break into his fucking apartment?</p>
</blockquote>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Heyo, I honestly think that this is the fastest I've ever written and completed a story. The feedback you guys have given me has been amazing, thank you so so so much! I hope to write more for this AU in the future, so if you enjoy this, keep an eye out!</p><p>TW for this part:<br/>// Breakdowns, panic attacks, not in-depth descriptions of nightmares, basically Gordon is a hot mess in this.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>He ended up at home, out of the HEV suit and in the shower before his mind fully caught up with him, still lingering on the last words Mr. Coolatta said before he literally vanished. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Deal</span>
  </em>
  <span>."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The water was scalding, nearly burning his skin as he scrubbed weeks worth of dirt, grime, and blood from his body, feeling oddly detached and numb as the brown-red-green water swirled down the drain. It was a pain washing his hair with only one hand, and he couldn't help but wonder if the prosthetic sitting on the sink could get wet, and then deciding it could as Dr. Coomer had no issues with his whenever they had to swim, or that strange water in the cave on Xen when they–Gordon violently shook his head, water spraying everywhere as he dislodged the thought. Nope, not thinking about it, won't think about it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He finally stumbled from the shower well after the water had turned to ice. He toweled himself off, glanced at the prosthetic, brushed his hair, looked at the prosthetic, brushed his teeth, ignored the smattering of new scars that crossed his body from where the HEV suit didn't protect him fully, dressed, and finally focused completely on the prosthetic. Tommy had explained how it worked, how it attached but Gordon honestly couldn't remember a word anyone had said to him after G-Man left. It was all a blur of noise and movement he could make no sense of. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He rubbed his thumb across the metal before lifting it and turning it to and fro, scrutinizing it momentarily before coming to the conclusion that he had </span>
  <em>
    <span>no idea</span>
  </em>
  <span> what he was doing. On a whim he held it up to his stump, and nearly laughed at his own stupidity until he blinked and it was… attached? Huh? Thinking too hard about it hurt his head, so he decided to not think about it, shoving it in the same corner of his brain as his ordeal at Black Mesa, and what he did to Benrey. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Lifting up his right arm, he thought about moving his fingers, and to his amazement the fingers on the metal hand responded in kind. Gordon flexed his hand, clenching and unclenching it into a fist, moving his fingers one at a time, twisting his wrist. He bit back bile when his gaze landed on the scar encircling his forearm about halfway up, and tore his eyes away, stumbling from the bathroom. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He collapsed into his bed, curling up in a shaking ball when a distant thought crossed his mind that it was too big for </span>
  <em>
    <span>one</span>
  </em>
  <span> person. He didn't have time to dwell on it, however, as a sudden wave of exhaustion crashed over him, pulling him into the sea of sleep within moments. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He was awoken by his phone ringing, what felt like mere minutes after he'd fallen asleep. When had he plugged it…? Doesn't matter he's gotta answer the damn thing. His hand fumbles for the device, and he managed to grab it and answer, mumbling a disoriented "Hullo?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Mr-Mr. Freeman!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Tommy? What can I do for you, bud?" He asked, still no more awake. He forced himself to sit up, groaning when his back protested the movement. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I-I was worried Mr. Freeman!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"...Why?" Had something happened? Was someone hurt? Did G-Man fail to get Benrey? Thoughts raced through his mind, panic settling in his gut. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Its been three-it's been three whole days, Mr. Freeman," Tommy exclaimed, worry coloring his tone. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What." Gordon's own voice was flat. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"It's been three days since the party, and you-you didn't call any of us when you got home like you promised, and you-and you didn't pick up any of our calls until now!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>What?</span>
  </em>
  <span>" Gordon repeated, mind reeling. It had been </span>
  <em>
    <span>three days</span>
  </em>
  <span>? "You're sure?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Mmhmm!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span>," he breathed, rubbing his face with his flesh hand. "Fuck," he said a little more forcibly, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and standing up, only to nearly faint as all the blood rushed from his head. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Are you okay Mr. Freeman?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Y-yeah I-I'm fine. Three days, huh? Guess I was tired… Hey, Tommy, how about I call you back in a bit?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"That's fine, Mr. Freeman! I need-I need to walk Sunkist anyway! Goodbye, stay safe!"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You too, man. Thanks for checking in on me."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The line clicks dead and Gordon sighs. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Three</span>
  </em>
  <span> fucking days, jesus christ. Did he sleep through all of it? No, he couldn't have, there are like, 4 empty water bottles on his bedside table that weren't there when he had first fallen asleep, so he must've woken up at some point. But being out for so long genuinely scared him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He ran a hand through his hair and cringed at the knotted mess it had become, and shuffled into the bathroom to fix the rats nest that had taken over his head. He didn't look at his reflection in the eye, afraid of what he'd see if it did, instead keeping his eye averted or to the very edges of his blurry form. Blurry? Why was his vision blurry—oh yeah, glasses. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He should probably look for the spare set he had lying around somewhere. Until then, he'd have to do with the cracked pair, it was better than having to squint and stumble his way around. Hair forgotten he patted the counter until his left hand hit them, slid them on his face, and then nearly laughed at his half-brushed mop of hair. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Quickly untangling and fixing his hair, he tied it up and out of his face. Satisfied, he turned, only to glare down at the pieces of the HEV suit strewn about his floor. Gordon swallowed heavily, breathing through his panic, and managed to kick all the discarded pieces into a shoddy pile before he had to leave the room before the panic overwhelmed him. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He ran a shaking hand through his hair, taking a grounding breath. He'd… he'd deal with it later. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Later goes from one week to two, the pile at least being moved from the bathroom so he could shower without having a panic attack. Two weeks turned to three, to four, five, six, seven.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Two months passed in a blur. If you were to ask Gordon, from what little he could remember, they were the worst two months of his life. Nightmare after nightmare plagued him. He couldn't sleep, could barely eat, and seldom left the house. He nearly stopped talking to the Science Team all together, if it weren't for their unannounced get-togethers where they'd either practically kidnap Gordon or show up uninvited at his house. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They were the only ones keeping him as sane as he was, slowly breaking him out of his depressive shell. It didn't make sleeping any easier, but he could breathe a little easier and managed to eat most days. He even went for the occasional walk with Tommy and Sunkist, towards the two-and-a-half month mark.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Three months after the party, there was a loud bang which woke Gordon from his uneasy sleep with a sharp gasp. He sat upright, prosthetic hand bunched in his shirt above his heart which was beating wildly in his chest. He held his breath as he listened for more noise, and heard a muttered curse from somewhere down the hall. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Shit</span>
  </em>
  <span>, someone was </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> trying to break into his fucking apartment?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The man swung his legs over the side of his bed and slowly stood up, snagging the baseball bat he kept nearby </span>
  <em>
    <span>just in case</span>
  </em>
  <span> on his way out the bedroom door. He silently crept down the hall, bat held at the ready. The figure in the middle of his living room was shorter than he was by a good bit, but stocky. They were poking around the entertainment center, back turned to him, so he snuck up on them. His grip was so tight that his knuckles were white and his prosthetic creaked, hands shaking as the person turned around.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Oh, yo, what're you doin' here?" they ask in a monotone yet excited tone, and Gordon swung the bat on a reflex. The person manages to duck with a huff, mumbling, "yo, watch where you swing that thing, Feetman. I don't think, uh, I don't think you have the proper training for a weapon like, like that."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gordon stumbled, thrown off balance by the force of his swing, only for his mind to stutter to a halt at the nickname. The bat clattered to the floor as his grasp loosened in shock, eyes blinking owlishly. Anything he tried to say died in his throat, so he just stood there, gaping. The person waved a hand in his face, which he barely registered, before cocking their head. "Uh, Feetman? Hello?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gordon shook his head in disbelief, a laugh bubbling up in his chest which quickly morphed into an ugly sob. "</span>
  <em>
    <span>Benrey</span>
  </em>
  <span>," he whispered, voice wet and trembling awfully. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"In the flesh, bro," Benrey replied, patting their chest for good measure. They gave him a crooked grin, only to be replaced with a confused frown as Gordon began to cry in earnest. "Uh, I, I know we didn't um, part on the best terms but that's no way to greet your best pal after he, after he came back from the dead. Am I really that ugly?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gordon wiped his eyes with a weak, yet genuine laugh, before stumbling forward a couple of steps and collapsing onto Benrey, fists curling into the material of their shirt and pulling them into his chest. Benrey let out a confused noise, accompanied by a stream of chartreuse Sweet Voice, before their own arms snaked around Gordon and squeezed him back. "Missed me, huh? Pog, uh, I mean-"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gordon laughed again and buried his face further into Benrey's shoulder, sobs still shaking his frame. "I m-missed you so much, Benrey, y-you have no ffffucking idea," he sniffed, pulling back to look Benrey in the face. He released Benrey with one hand to wipe away at the tears still streaming down his face, although the movement was fruitless as more took their place. "I-" he began, voice cracking harshly.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Benrey waited for him to get his thoughts in order, a steady stream of orange to blue Sweet Voice lighting up the dark room. Gordon cleared his throat, pulling in a deep, shuddering breath, before he began again. "Benrey, I-I'm so fucking sorry."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Huh, wuh? What for?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"F-for all the shit I put you through in Black Mesa, during the ResCas. I-I was awful to you, I d-did nothing but yell at you, and shoot you, m-mock you. I-I-I shouldn't have done any of those things, if I had-hadn't forgotten you, f-forgotten </span>
  <em>
    <span>us</span>
  </em>
  <span>, the-then–" It wasn't until Benrey began to rub his back that Gordon realized his breathing had gone from shuddering to downright hyperventilating, hands fisted in his hair. The dam had broken, however, and he couldn't stop the tears or words that escaped. "I'm so fucking sorry, Benrey. I'm so, so so sorry, I killed you, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> killed you, a-and that's not-not something you can f-forgive and I-I understand if you want nothing t-to do with me, a-after the way I treated you. You-You probably hate me and-</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"God, I s-shouldn't h-have forgotten you, then none of this w-would've happened and I-I-" Gordon's voice broke completely, instead a high keening noise escaped his lips and he sunk to his knees, bringing Benrey down with him. Benrey tightened their hold and sang a couple orbs of sky blue to red to dark blue, then a few orbs of mint green to smoke gray. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Hey, look at me," Benrey tried, voice quiet, moving their hands to grasp Gordon's cheeks. Gordon just shook his head and tried to pull away but Benrey held firm. "Please? Gordon? Look at Benrey, please and thank you?" Gordon's eyes cracked open and stared at Benrey, who used their thumbs to wipe away some of his tears. "There we go, thank you sir. I don't hate you. I never could."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gordon didn't say anything, just frowned, so Benrey continued. "We both said 'n did, uh, things that we regret but that, but that's okay. Because we uh, we </span>
  <em>
    <span>regret</span>
  </em>
  <span> them, yeah? Like, hell, I got your arm cut off 'n I'm, I'm </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> sorry about that. I, I didn't, uh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span> they would do it but that doesn't, it doesn't make it </span>
  <em>
    <span>okay</span>
  </em>
  <span>."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gordon shook his head again, pressing his face into Benrey's palms. "You didn't mean it, I forgive you. I-What I did w-was worse-"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Why?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gordon spluttered, blinking rapidly, before he repeated, "Why?" at a loud volume, but he couldn't control it, voice only rising. "</span>
  <em>
    <span>Why</span>
  </em>
  <span>? Because-Benrey, I-I fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>killed</span>
  </em>
  <span> you! I </span>
  <em>
    <span>killed</span>
  </em>
  <span> you! Losing my arm is </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing</span>
  </em>
  <span> compared to you losing your </span>
  <em>
    <span>fucking life</span>
  </em>
  <span>, dude!" And Gordon realized he was yelling, fists twisting tighter in his locks of hair.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Benrey grabbed Gordon's hands in their own and slowly untangled them, bringing them down to Gordon's lap and holding them there. "You didn't mean it. No," Gordon opened his mouth to argue but Benrey cut him off, "You were upset, scared, and hurt. What else were you supposed to do. Yeah it fuckin', it fuckin' sucked, dying, but I'm back so no harm no foul, y'know?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Fresh tears spilled down Gordon's cheeks and Benrey pulled him in for another hug, Gordon falling easily into the embrace. Benrey kissed the top of his head, earning a small squeak from the man. Baby pink and cotton candy blue orbs escaped Benrey's lips as Gordon whispered, "I love you," into their chest.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Finally able to gather himself enough so that he wasn't full-on sobbing anymore, Gordon pulled back, scrubbing his eyes with a self-deprecating laugh. "S-sorry, that probably wasn't what you wanted to come home to."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Benrey just smiled, amused yellow Sweet Voice coloring the air. "Nah, who wouldn't want their boyfriend uh, cryin' over them coming back from the, from the dead, y'know? 11/10. Best homecoming." Gordon laughed until he couldn't breath, joined by Benrey's own maniacal laughter. Wheezing, he pushed himself out of Benrey's grasp and stood up, offering a hand to the eldritch being. Benrey took his hand and allowed himself to be helped up, before they tangled their fingers together. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They smacked their lips, before asking, "Can, uh, can I kiss, can I kiss you?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gordon smiled, "Dude, I'm fucking-I'm disgusting. I need to wash up." He gestured to the drying tears and snot that covered his face. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Benrey shrugged. "Do you think that I, uh, care? I've seen you worse. Like, like that one time where you had, like, mud in your teeth? Because you're a clumsy boy 'n tripped in the rain?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gordon laughed again, stumbling forward to grab Benrey's face. "Shut up, dude," he snickered, pressing their lips together. The kiss was tender, Gordon's arms wrapped around Benrey's shoulders, and Benrey's hands coming up to card through Gordon's hair. They broke apart to breathe, Gordon grinning and eyes shining with pure love. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was a much better sight than seeing him in a mental breakdown, in Benrey's opinion. He could look all day. Gordon groaned and shoved Benrey lightly, "take a picture, it'll last longer." Oh, had Benrey said their thoughts out loud? Oops.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The two eventually end up on the couch, Gordon on top of Benrey, dozing lightly. Benrey played with his hair, nails lightly scratching his scalp. Gordon let out a small, content sigh and relaxed a little further. Benrey's heart swelled at the small, tired smile firmly plastered on Gordon's face. They had missed this, they missed Gordon, the easy touches and laughter and cuddles.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Being forgotten and dying </span>
  <em>
    <span>sucked</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Benrey was too busy thinking about how to make up for lost time that they almost missed Gordon's mumbled, "'M sorry."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Huh? For what, Feetman? Did you steal something? I need to see your uh, your passport."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gordon let out a tiny little laugh, burrowed his face further into Benrey's chest, and said a slightly slurred, "I love you," before his breathing evened out and he was asleep. More pink and blue Sweet Voice floated to the air, glowing softly. Benrey kissed Gordon's forehead. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I love you too."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Benrey technically didn't </span>
  <em>
    <span>need</span>
  </em>
  <span> sleep, but that didn't mean they didn't like to indulge when they could. They settled back, arms wrapped around Gordon's form to keep him from sliding off, and closed their eyes, own breathing matching Gordon's as they, too, slipped into unconsciousness.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Only to be roused what felt like mere minutes later by Gordon practically falling off of them in his haste to… to what? Benrey's arms tightened around Gordon's waist, keeping him put as they cracked open their eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gordon's hands were over his mouth, stifling the panicked breaths they could feel tearing through his body. He was curled up as much as their arms would allow him to be, shaking so hard it was visible. "Gordon?" Benrey questioned, head tilted slightly as they sat up. Gordon shot them a wild look and tried to struggle from their arms but Benrey didn't budge, just held him close. Their worried, "what's wrong?" was accompanied by blue fading to smoke gray Sweet Voice. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I-I-Sorry, did I wake you?" Gordon asked instead of answering Benrey's question, turning his face away from Benrey to hide the tears that began to build up. "I-its nothing, sorry, go back to sleep."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Uh, no can do. You, you don't have credentials, I need to, uh, to keep an eye on you. In case you break something."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Please</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Benrey," Gordon pleased desperately, running his hands haphazardly through his hair. "I-I don't want to talk about it."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Benrey frowned at that, but hummed. "Then don't talk, let ol' Benny-Boy take care of you."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>This seemed to placate Gordon somewhat, because he allowed himself to be pulled back into Benrey's chest, the alien running their hands through Gordon's hair again. They sat in silence, neither seeing any reason to break it, until Gordon's stifled sobs turned to small hiccups and then faded completely. He scrubbed a hand down his face with a sharp sigh, turning to hide his head in the crook of Benrey's neck. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They felt him take in a shuddering breath before he mumbled something against their skin. "Sorry, it-its-I, I have-They're nightmares," he finally settled on through his stuttering. Gordon lifted his head and frowned up at Benrey. "I ha-Ever since the ResCas I can't-I can't sleep…"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Because of the nightmares?" Gordon nodded, averting his eyes and playing with the fabric of Benrey's shirt like it was something to be </span>
  <em>
    <span>ashamed</span>
  </em>
  <span> of and not a completely normal reaction to everything. "Do you wanna, uh, talk about it?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The easiest answer, and the one on the tip of Gordon's tongue was </span>
  <em>
    <span>no</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he didn't want to talk about it, because talking about it meant it being real, having to face it, and not something he could shove to the deepest recesses of his mind to </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> think about. But, but three months was wearing him thin, and he knew, objectively, talking might help. He settled on, "I don't wanna be a bother, you just got back to, like, being alive, you shouldn't have to deal with my shit."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Benrey rapped their knuckles against Gordon's head lightly, blinking impassively down at him. "Would I have offered if it was a, a bother? Hmm, Feetman? Gaydon Feetman?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"N-no, but it isn't fair to you…"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I don't think it's fair for you to suffer alone," Benrey points out, voice lacking in its usual monotone, gamer-lingo...ness. What? Gordon's brain wasn't quite working right, give him a break. "Listen, what you went through? Sucks, big sucks. But? I'm back, you got a cool ass robot hand, and you got your memories. All seems okay to me, so I have </span>
  <em>
    <span>no</span>
  </em>
  <span> qualms about you ranting to me, y'know?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gordon glanced down at his prosthetic. "Yeah, it's pretty, u-uh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>poggers</span>
  </em>
  <span>–" Benrey cackled, super-villain laugh shaking Gordon and sending him into giggles. "</span>
  <em>
    <span>What</span>
  </em>
  <span>?"</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Bro, never, uh, never say that again, that was pretty cringe," Benrey managed to get out between bouts of laughter, wiping away a stray tear. "Going in my Top Ten Gordon Cringe Moments compilation. Number 8."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>They both were aware of the fact Gordon was avoiding the topic at hand, and both knew the </span>
  <em>
    <span>other</span>
  </em>
  <span> knew. But neither wanted to bring it up. Just being with Benrey helped, their presence and ability to make Gordon laugh lightening his mood faster and more efficiently than if he were alone. Following their breathing helped keep his steady, and he could focus on the cool hands that rested on his back instead of his fears and woes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"What time is it?" Gordon mumbled into the quiet after their laughter finally died.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I dunno, late," Benrey supplied, oh-so-helpfully. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Thanks."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"No problem, Gordos. Oh nooo where you going bro, come baaaack," Benrey whined when Gordon slipped off their chest. He grabbed their hand and tugged them off the couch, before leading them down the hall.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"I'll never understand how you manage to whine while so monotone." Gordon shook his head with a small grin before answering. "Bed, dude. Come on, it's like, Zero-Dark-Thirty or some shit and the couch is killing my back."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"You got that, uh, old man back, bro. Dad back. Bone hurty disease. Gotta get it fixed, get a new, uh, new back. No stealing one though."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gordon </span>
  <em>
    <span>missed</span>
  </em>
  <span> this. Benrey's stupid comments and ramblings that amused him to no end, bringing a dopey smile to his face as Benrey talked just to </span>
  <em>
    <span>talk</span>
  </em>
  <span>, fill the air with something. Gordon hated silence, especially after the ResCas, and often talked to himself to fill it. Having someone he loved to share it with? He couldn't be happier. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He finally collapsed into bed, never letting go of his and Benrey's interlocked fingers and therefore dragging them into the bed as well. Gordon stretched until something in his back popped audibly, garnering another comment from Benrey that his brain didn't process. "Mmhmm," he hummed when he heard a questioning tone come from Benrey, no words actually registering in his mind. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Benrey snorted at the non-answer and shifted so they were properly next to Gordon, wrapping their arms around him when he instantly moves closer and clings to his front. "Nighty-night, Babyman. Sleepy time. No bed bugs here, no sir."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Mmm up shut, please," Gordon yawned, snuggling closer, eyes slipping shut. "Sleep, quiet time. Gordon tired."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Gordon tired?" Benrey parroted back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Gordon tired," he repeated, voice slipping. "Gordon sleep now, goodnight Benrey."</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Goodnight, Sleepman."</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Edit; I FORGOT THE SWEET VOICE TRANSLATIONS FUCK<br/>Chartreuse - Confused<br/>Orange to Blue - I got you<br/>Sky Blue to Red to Dark Blue - I don't hate you<br/>Mint Green to Smoke Gray - You're Okay<br/>Baby Pink to Cotton Candy Blue - I love you<br/>Yellow - Amused<br/>Blue to Smoke Gray - Are you okay?</p><p>If you'd like to know more about this AU, send me fanart, ask me anything about the AU, or just like HLVRAI, please think about checking out my HLVRAI blog, <a href="http://G0rd0n-Fr33m4n.tumblr.com">G0rd0n-Fr33m4n</a>. I'll be posting some more headcanon/bullet list-type things for this AU over there, and it'll all be tagged under 'Mind Wipe AU'.</p><p>Thank you so much for your comments, and I really hope you enjoyed my work! &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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